


Random Kindness

by PoisonKisses



Series: Siren Citizens of Gotham [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Gotham City Sirens (Comics)
Genre: F/F, Homelessness, LGBTQ Themes, Prostitution, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 05:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9804707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonKisses/pseuds/PoisonKisses
Summary: Mandy ran away because she had to, and Gotham is a scary place. She just needs a little hope.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for #RandomActsOfKindnessDay
> 
> I wish this situation was entirely fiction, but unfortunately it happens every day, and in the real world Harley and Ivy aren't around to intervene. Take care of yourselves, please.

Mandy was cold. And hungry. And so goddamned tired. Sleep was hard to get covered in old cardboard that smelled like tomatoes gone bad--cardboard she'd scrounged up from behind a Chinese place before being chased away by kitchen staff. She hadn't slept for more than a few hours at a time in days, not since she'd been awakened by an old homeless guy pawing at her, trying to pull her pants off, his face a twisted visage straight out of Hell--all hunger and completely lacking in anything resembling humanity. She'd screamed, hit him with her pack, then ran. That's what the past few months had been.

Running. Scrounging. Crying.

She'd left home with no real plan. Her dad had caught her with Jamie, sharing kisses and one measly joint, and lost it, hitting her, screaming at her, threatening her with Hell and conversion therapy. Her mother had stood by with a glower, disgust written on her pinched features. That night she'd run, a fistful of cash and her phone stuffed in her pockets. The cash was gone the first week, the phone stolen within the first couple of days--literally the first person she'd talked to and trusted, a boy named Matt, disappeared and took it with him. Even if she'd wanted to go home, she couldn't have.

No, she couldn't go home. It was very plain she wasn't welcome at home. No. It wasn't home. Her father had screamed 'Dyke' in her face, spittle flying, slapping her when she tried to argue.

She was sitting near the corner of Bleeker and Gavin Avenue, in the Narrows, huddled in an alcove against the cold. She had her hood up, her Gotham Knights hoodie the only thing of value she really had. She'd had a few pizza crusts the day before but her stomach was an angry, living thing in her middle, snarling at her. This was Brock's little gang's turf, though against the real gangs and criminal element Brock was a mediocre fish in a big pond. Supposedly this was Penguin territory, and she'd seen girls working the corners for him a few times--there was a lonely one making eyes at passing cars a few yards from where she was sitting. Cammie. She was nice enough, but when she talked to Mandy there was pity in her eyes.

Mandy hadn't gotten hungry enough to consider that yet, but it wasn't far off. She didn't like boys, she never had, and when she and Jamie--God she missed Jamie--had started experimenting it was like someone had taken blinders off of her. Not that what she was considering doing, what Cammie was doing, had anything to do with liking boys.

Mandy sighed and huddled tighter. There was a standing offer from Anthony, supposedly one of the Penguin's underbosses. She could walk the ten blocks over, get a hot shower, maybe a meal. It would just mean 'partying' with him, maybe giving in to his offer of a little smack or even a drop of the new drug, Bliss. She was savvy enough to know that's how it started, anyway. She glanced at Cammie, who was staring down the street at something out of Mandy's view. That's how it'd started for Cammie. She didn't think she could do it. She'd begun to seriously think about taking the other way out, the one she wasn't supposed to think about.

Something, she couldn't have said what it was, made her stand up and lean out to look down the sidewalk at what Cammie was staring at. It was like...something in the air. A tingle. Two women were walking toward her. They were holding hands, fingers entwined, and that's what caught Mandy's eye at first. They were open about it. The shorter one, the blonde, was cute in a manic way. Pigtails with the tips dyed red and blue, makeup laid on with a vengeance--big red lips, alternating red and blue eyeshadow, face very pale. She was wearing a leather corset top, leather pants, platform heels--all very fetishey. Mandy could see she was wearing a collar or a choker with a dangling heart charm and big hoop earrings. Had she been alone, Mandy would have thought she was looking for a corner herself, or at least on her way to her dancing gig...a couple of streets over were several clubs she could have walked in and had a job instantly. She was fit--lithely muscled midriff, sculpted arms--and behind the crazy makeup very pretty with big blue eyes and a huge smile. Mandy liked her, liked the way she was chattering to her partner with big animated arm motions and a spring in her step--she practically bounced along. She was swinging their arms together as they walked.

The other woman couldn't have been more different. She was a bit taller but much more full figured. Her hair drew the eye first--a waist length mane of blood red curls that looked so soft and silky it made Mandy want to bury her face in it. This woman was stunning, sultry, with full, pouty lips and thick lashes, cheekbones, cleavage, swaying hips. She looked like she was made in a lab by a bunch of horny teenage boys...like a Playhouse centerfold come to life, only with no need for airbrushing. She was wearing a long coat over a dark green, curve hugging dress, green lace stockings, and dark green ankle boots with dangerously tall heels, but the way she strolled on them it was clear she was perfectly comfortable in them. She just looked so...sensual. Her expression was cool and challenging--not a trace of fear or anxiety at being in the worst part of the narrows and looking the way she did. It was when she glanced down at the blonde and her expression softened...so much love...that Mandy bit her lip and wished she had someone the way they had each other.

They couldn't have been more different, but somehow they just...fit...together.

The blonde had stopped to check something on her phone, and Mandy quickly ducked her head, afraid of being caught staring. She was settling back down to try and huddle for warmth when a shadow fell over her. While she'd been staring at the two women, Brock had come up behind her.

"I thought I told you no squatting on my turf," he demanded with as much bluster as he was capable. Brock was fairly big. Rumor had it he'd been a football prospect but blown his knee in high school, hadn't graduated, and been a small time thug ever since. He was big and scary enough to bully the other local boys but nowhere near big, mean, or smart enough to work as muscle for the real criminals of Gotham. He was still more than enough to scare Mandy. She stood hurriedly, craning her head back to see him.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm going, just was trying to warm up is all," she stammered quickly and tried to brush past him, but he grabbed her upper arm with a big hand and squeezed hard enough she yelped.

"No, you ain't goin' nowhere. You gotta pay the toll." He was grinning, but there was nothing kind about the smile he gave her.

"Brock, I'm sorry. I ain't got nothin'," she tried to explain, but suddenly she was being yanked along. She was petrified, cursing herself. She wanted to scream for help, but she was too scared, and then suddenly she was in the nearby alley and he was shoving her against the stained wall.

"Well, you still got something, don't ya?"

Her eyes widened. She opened her mouth to scream, but he put his hand over it, pressing her against the wall with all of his weight. She tried to push him off but he was too heavy. His hand was groping her, fumbling with her clothes, and panicked she began to slap at him, which only seemed to amuse him.

This is it, she thought. This is my first rape.

"Hey, dumbfuck! Ya betta let her go right now." 

Brock whirled and Mandy used the sudden voice's distraction to twist past him, stumbling several paces away. Framed in the alley's entrance was the blonde from before, a scowl on her face. Her voice had been high pitched, nasally, thickly accented. Behind her, the redhead was standing, looking vaguely amused, a smirk on her dark, full lips. 

"I'd do what she says. I think she means business." She commented, her voice deep and sexy. Their voices fit.

Brock was staring at the redhead, mouth slack, but then he snapped out of it and snarled, "this ain't none of your business, bitch." The blonde grinned--an amused, excited, dangerous grin. Mandy had edged her way past Brock and was passing the two women when the blonde looked at her friend, pleading silently.

"Oh, very well, go ahead, but try not to get too much blood on you."

The blonde strolled forward, cracking her neck, and suddenly the redhead called over to Mandy. "Sweetie, come here. You don't want to see this."

"See what?" she started to ask, but then she heard Brock's dull roar, turned just in time to see the blond meet his bull charge with a punch that snapped his head up, the sound of his jaw breaking, and then the blond kicked his knee--bent it the wrong way--and as he went down she went down with him, hitting him. Again and again. He screamed at first, but that faded.

All the while the cute blonde girl was laughing hysterically.

Mandy turned away to stare at the redhead, who was watching with an affectionate smile on her face. She turned to Mandy, "Don't go anywhere, petal. Give us a sec."

The blonde was walking back, her face covered in specks of blood. "Hey, he's still breathin'," she said defensively to the redhead.

"Better than he deserves," the redhead said, "I told you not to get blood all over you."

"I know, whattaya want from me? I'd have ta wear scrubs--"

"You know what this does to me," she heard the redhead purr, and suddenly they were kissing--hot, wet, passionate--the kind of kissing where there is no shame or awkwardness, just a need to try and devour the other person because you want them so badly. Mandy was open-mouthed, in shock, when they parted.

The redhead had produced a handkerchief when the blonde spotted Mandy and said, "Hey kid, when's the last time ya had somethin' ta eat?"

"I, uh, couple of days?" she guessed. The blonde nodded.

"Ok, come on, dinner's on us." She flashed a friendly smile. Mandy stared. Up close, she could see the charm around her neck was engraved with "Ivy's Girl" and had little vines circling the letters. The redhead was wearing a matching charm bracelet--hearts, the name Harley, then black and red diamonds.

"Oh my God," Mandy muttered, "you two are--"

"Hungry." The red head interrupted her. "Let's get some food."


End file.
